


So If I Survive, Then I'll See You Tomorrow

by nextdoorneighbor



Series: Weird Things From Inside My Head Oops (WTFIMHO) [2]
Category: Day6 (Band)
Genre: Am I the only one who loves them together or what?, Blood, Depression, I Don't Even Know, I did it again, M/M, Sadness, Seriously this is the most underrated ship ever I can't, anyway, guess that's it?, have fun, lapslock, so... yeah, swears, the two things I write the best
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-05
Updated: 2017-02-05
Packaged: 2018-09-22 06:42:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9589271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nextdoorneighbor/pseuds/nextdoorneighbor
Summary: it's just an ocean of tears.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Life is hectic but I guess I'm starting a series of these weird drabbles that only make sense to me. 
> 
> Also the name is from Bullet by Hollywood Undead.

he finds wonpil on the floor, crying. why is that? why is he crying? 

“what’s wrong?” the words fall onto the floor and break, the shards cutting deep wounds on wonpil’s skin. the tears are almost drowning him. jaehyung doesn’t understand. it’s like wonpil can’t hear him, like he's surrounded by walls. 

there are waves now, the floor is an ocean made out of black tears. should he feel heartbreak? what is it that’s bothering him? 

“hyung.” his voice is absolute wreck, the word coming out as a spit; there’s no respect to it, no love. the word sails on the waves for a few seconds before it gets sucked down with a whirl. it’s gone and so is jaehyung’s memory of it. 

“you are crying.” it’s a statement, not a question. their positions don’t change. he keeps standing, looking down at the other through the glasses. wonpil’s hair gets soaked with the bitter tears. he remembers the time he would have lied down, too. he would have taken wonpil’s bleeding wrists and kissed them shut. but his wrists aren’t open now. 

“i brought flowers,” he claims, his voice raspy, used. jaehyung glances to the table. red roses. how typical. he scoffs, shrugs. “they are white,” he continues, jaehyung slowly catching on. 

“fucking hell,” he says, makes his way to the table, to the flowers. they are still dripping and now he sees. the ocean isn’t black, it’s red. it’s the night, he tells himself. he would have seen it. he takes one of them, the light coming through the crack in the window and hitting it so he can smell the old blood. he throws the roses and the vase on the floor, the shards of the glass fixing wonpil’s skin and the petals of the roses cutting deep into jaehyung’s. 

“i fucking despise you, you know that, right?” wonpil’s hand is locked to the floorboard. did jaehyung do that, or did he? 

he wants to run his fingers over the other’s face. he remembers when he could. when that was the only thing they did at night, explored each other. 

he sits down, a great big space between them. “fucking hate every god damn cell in you,” he says as he leans into jaehyung’s hand, eyes fluttering shut. “shithead,” he says and thinks the variation of profanities will change something. the tears are dropping from the ends of his hair. “i'll fucking cut you.”

jaehyung laughs at that. “the only thing you cut is yourself.” the knife is a few meters away, surrounded by water. wonpil’s cheek feels like death. 

“get your dirty fingers away from me,” he says and nudges back, trying to escape even if he isn't able to. hatred running down his cheeks again. jaehyung wants it to stop. 

“where this time, huh? where?” he shoves wonpil under the waves that just keep growing. shoving his shirt up his torso and running his fingers along the cuts on his sides. wonpil screams, trying to get away. jaehyung pushes through, trying to fish all the sadness under wonpil’s skin when he feels a beetle of hopelessness drop into the dark red ocean. 

“it’s too late and you know that,” he hears just before the rest of the body underneath sinks below the raging waves. he watches for a second and then with shaking hands starts to look for the other. he calls his name several times, fording through the ocean. he feels hopeless, it shows on his face. he dives in, letting his eyes burn as he opens them in the salty liquid. he searches the bottom for hours, days, not letting himself breathe. 

he doesn’t believe it when he sees the other. he swims to him, shakes him, and he opens his eyes. he takes him to the surface, takes care of him, washes him, takes him to bed. 

they lie there, foreheads together, skin against skin. jaehyung had kissed the cuts shut and was now petting over them.

“i love you.”

“i hate you.” 

jaehyung smiles and plants his lips in the center of wonpil’s right eyebrow. for a second he’s clear of sadness.


End file.
